A Better Place
by starfish.dancer
Summary: The once-married Jemma Simmons and Grant Ward meet up for coffee. Another work in my archives I found could be upcycled, because some could fit, and what couldn't could have serial numbers filed in. Cross-posted from AO3.


A Better Place

"Hey, sweetheart. Sorry to keep you waiting. I hope it wasn't too long."

She looks up from her book, mildly startled. The café is nearly empty. Soft jazz plays over the speakers and the only other customers appear to be a group of teenagers crowded into a booth together and paying no attention to the woman reading alone. A half-filled mug sits in front of her, likely gone cold. He slides across from her, shrugging off his jacket. Long legs brush hers as he moves past her, a rakish grin on his face.

"Don't give me that look. I expected you to show up late, but really, Grant. An hour is a little much, even for you."

"An hour? Is it really that late?"

She rolls her eyes, but he can see a faint lift to the corner of her mouth. "The bus girl kept shooting me sympathetic looks and telling me that men are bastards."

"Would it help if I agreed with her?"

"Grant-"

She shakes her head at him, brushing back a lock of hair when it falls into her eyes. It's shorter than when he last saw her, soft waves just past her chin and lighter in colour. His hands itch to bury themselves in it.

"Face it, baby, you never could stay mad at me." He leans back in his seat, draping an arm over the back of the booth as he flashes her a smug smile. She returns it despite herself.

"Well I see your latest mission hasn't made you any less self-assured."

"You used to find it charming."

"I also used to be young and foolish."

"Ouch! A blow straight to the heart."

"Well, I am a genius. I was bound to score a point or two."

"So what can I get you," he asks, waving the waitress over. "It's on me this time, baby. I insist."

"I know, which is why I not only drank three cups of the fancy coffee, but I also indulged in one of those expensive white chocolate brownies."

"That sounds good. I'll have a cup of coffee and another one of those brownies." The waitress nods. As she begins to walk away, he winks at her. "And two forks." He turns back to Jemma, who shakes her head at him. "Reading anything interesting?"

"Just another book Daisy foisted on me. A little heavy handed on the independent woman, hear me roar, but I brought it along anyway. I thought it might help me maintain a little dignity when you inevitably showed up late."

"You know me too well."

"We were married for nearly six years."

"We're technically still married now," he counters.

"We've been legally separated nearly three years now. I know you want to make sure the boys are looked after if anything happens to you – "

"The boys _and_ you," he stresses.

"You know that's not necessary," she says gently. "And I want you to be free, if you should meet someone…"

"I'll deal with that if it comes up," he waves a hand in dismissal, then pauses. "Unless… have you met someone?"

Whatever he might think of that, his voice gives nothing away. Then again, she shouldn't expect it to do so. He always played things tight to the chest, kept himself closed off until she ached with it, until it became too much to bear.

"I've had a few dates," she says, and if his face doesn't change, she can ignore that along with the twinge of something like grief in her heart. "But no. Though Daisy and Nat both think I should try harder. The boys keep me busy, though, and that's enough for now, I suppose."

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and they sit in silence for a few minutes that stretch longer than they should. She rubs absently at her chest, as though it could soothe the ache there.

"So how is school?" he says finally, and she latches on to the change of topic.

"Good, good. I've got a bigger class this year, but there are fewer kids with behavioural problems. It balances out, in the end. And there are a few who are so enthusiastic, who just want to learn and absorb and try new things," her face brightens, and if the expression on his face seems fond, she knows better, now, than to dwell on it. "What about you?"

She sighs at his expression. "I'm not asking you for specifics. I know the drill. Just, I don't know, tell me the parts you're allowed to share with civilians."

"It's been good. Intense, busy, though. Which is why I was late."

"I guessed as much. Ah, here's your brownie. I see you haven't lost your charm, she's given you extra chocolate sauce."

"And I see she didn't forget your fork."

"I really can't, Grant. I already had one."

"A few bites of mine won't kill you. C'mon, here." He scoops up some brownie, bringing the fork to her lips. She rolls her eyes, trying to push it away.

"You know I'm relentless, babe. Just one bite, I promise, I'll eat the rest."

"Alright. If I must." She can't help but close her eyes and hum a little. "God, that's good."

When she opens her eyes, tongue darting out to catch a crumb from her lower lip, his eyes are dark with something she refuses to read.

"Want another?"

"No," she laughs even as he lifts a second bite to her mouth. "Alright, now. No more, really, or I'll have to double my treadmill time tomorrow.". He leans forward, looking at her, then reaches to tuck another stray wisp of hair behind her ear.

"You cut your hair. I like it." His hand lingers on her cheek, and she stills for a second, then draws back.

"Yes," she says absently. "I just wanted a change, I guess."

He looks for a moment as though he is going to take her hand, but instead reaches for his cup.

"The coffee's really good here. Much better than the tar they brew at HQ. I'm surprised there aren't more people in the place."

"It's late, Grant. Most people who are out prefer bars." She runs her hand over her forehead. "You can quit beating around the bush, you know."

"What? Can't a guy just want to eat a brownie and catch up with his favourite almost ex-wife?"

"I'm your only almost ex-wife, Grant, and no, he can't."

"Unfortunately, you're right. I came to bring you this." He reaches into a bag she hadn't noticed and sets a small package wrapped in wrinkled paper on the table. Her stomach sinks.

"No, no, no. See, this looks like a birthday gift, but since mine was months ago and you promised the boys you'd be there on Saturday, this can't possibly be one."

"Babe-"

"Don't 'babe' me, Grant."

"Jem-"

"Don't make up excuses, don't try to make it seem like this isn't a big deal, don't apologize, just, just don't."

"You know I don't want to do this, that I wouldn't be doing this if it weren't absolutely necessary. I was looking forward to seeing them. Please, just tell the boys-"

"Tell them what I always tell them, right? That Dad loves them, but he has to miss another birthday because he has to run off to save the world again? I can't keep doing this, Grant."

"I'll make it up to them, you know I will, sweetheart. All you need to do is give Edmund his gift, tell him I'm really sorry that I missed his birthday but that I'm thinking of him. I am really sorry, Jem. You know I love Edmund and Colin and I hate not being able to see them, but we were just handed some crucial information that changes a situation in a very big way. I can't do anything to compromise the case, so I'll be incommunicado for a least a month. As usual, Coulson will keep you updated and will let me know if you need anything. I've got some vacation time after I'm done. We can take the boys to Disneyland, take them on Splash Mountain."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Disneyland? Maybe it is a little far, but we could do something close by. How about camping?"

"I mean I don't think that any of it is a good idea, not Disneyland, not camping, not the vacation, none of it."

"What do you mean, none of it?"

"Look, Grant, I know you love the boys. But you need to stop for a moment and think about what this does to them. You pop in and out of their lives, making promises you never keep, and then I'm left to make reassurances, to apologize for you over and over again. It was one thing when I was the one..."

Her voices catches a moment, but then it's all steel. "You keep breaking their hearts, and I can't keep standing by while they get hurt over and over. I'm tired of telling them that their hero can't be around because he has to play hero to everyone but them."

"That's not fair, Jem, and you know it."

"You're right. It isn't fair, not to them, and not to me. They are three and five years old, Grant, and they don't understand that you don't mean to keep disappointing them. They need more than a part-time father and you can't even manage that. Maybe it would be better if you took a step back."

"You've been listening to Fitz again, haven't you? You know he doesn't like me."

"It's not that he doesn't like you, Grant, it's that he doesn't think you're good for me or the boys."

"And you agree with him? I love my boys, Jemma. Damn it, don't do this to me."

"You know I would never stop you from seeing the boys, Grant. I'm just asking you to take a look at your life, at the choices you've made, and think about where your sons fit into them. I'll take Edmund his present, I'll tell him you're sorry, but this is the last time I can do this for you."

She stands up, moves to put on her jacket. He catches her arm.

"You can't just leave it at that, Jemma. We have to talk about this."

"I'm talked out about this, Grant. I've defended you to so many people, tried so hard to make them see that you're doing right by the boys, but to tell you the truth, I just don't know anymore. I've got to go, before the next metro leaves. I have to get up early since it's my turn to carpool."

"Will you at least tell the boys I'll see them as soon as I get back?"

"I can't do that, Grant. They need at least one of us to stop lying to them."

He rears back like she's slapped him, and she uses the moment to pull her coat from her chair, shrugging into it as she makes takes quick steps to the door. He stands helpless for a moment, then swears loudly. He drops a couple of bills on the table, and runs after her, pulling on his jacket as he goes. A quick glance around and he thinks he's lost her, but then he sees the back of her jacket turn a corner. He catches up to her quickly, pulling her into an alcove. She's hunched over, her arms wrapped around her stomach and she is biting her lip the way she always does when she is trying not to cry.

"Hey, hey. Don't cry, baby."

At that, her face crumples and he's pulling her into his embrace, running a soothing hand down her back as she trembles in his arms. After a moment she pulls away, though not quite out of his arms and wipes stray tears from her eyes.

"You know, it was okay when it was just me you kept leaving behind. I used to think of it as an adventure. I would tell myself it was like living with Clark Kent, and that it didn't matter if I was last on your list of priorities, if I was alone on our anniversary or when Daisy was being a terrible coach while I was giving birth because you were making the world a better place and who was I to compete with that? But I can't ask our sons to do the same, Grant."

"What if I made this my last case? I'll move back here, find a desk job."

"You'd be miserable, Grant. Just like last time. We can't be enough for you, not when you love what you do. And in a way, it would be selfish of us, because you're good at it, and you're doing so many good things that other people only dream of doing."

"Then I'll find something else out of the field. Just let me try, after this case, just give me a chance."

"I don't know if I can, Grant. Please, just think about what I said."

"Only if you do the same."

"Alright. I will."

He leans into her, his forehead pressed to hers. His hands leave his arms to wipe away the last of her tears, then cup her cheeks. Her hands come to rest on his wrists, but don't move to tug them away. Her eyes close and more a moment they just breath together, then a hand is in her hair and he's ducking down to take her lips. It's hesitant at first, like he's never been with her, but she melts into him, her arms lifting around his neck even as he pulls her closer and it's like she's kissing him with every cell in her body. When she pulls away to catch a panting breath, tipping her head back to gasp, it's his hand that keeps her from hitting her head against the stone behind her. Then she whimpers as he finds that delicious spot behind her ear and makes his way down her neck with a graze of teeth that leaves her wanting, parting the first button of her blouse, then the second, to press kisses to her breasts.

He stops, then, suddenly, and she realizes what's caught her attention. Her wedding band and engagement ring, worn tucked beneath her shirt. Her fingers come up to grasp them, to clutch them to her, and when she peeks up at him beneath her eyelashes, there's more than hunger in his eyes. There's something like hope. She doesn't speak a word to break the spell, and, for a moment, neither does he. He simply buttons her blouse back over the rings, pressing his hand to her heart a moment before kissing her forehead.

"Did you need cab fare to get home?"

"No, I'm alright. And you paid for coffee."

"Do you need anything at all?"

"No. I'll be fine. I always am."

"I'll see you soon, Jemma."

"Stay safe, Grant."

She begins to walk away and he watches her back as she hails a cab. He calls to her as she gets in. She turns, looks at him.

"It was never that you weren't enough. I need you to know that."

She nods after a moment, then stoops into the taxi, closing the door gently behind her. He watches as the car pulls away, staring out after it.

It is almost out of sight when he sees her turn in the seat and lift a hand to him. He lifts one back. It is just good night. Not goodbye, not this time. He won't let it be.

p. 9


End file.
